


Distractions

by Torchiclove



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, beau is gay and enthusiastic about strong women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 12:58:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13704948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torchiclove/pseuds/Torchiclove
Summary: Yasha's back, and Beau is feeling a lot of things she didn't quite expect.Or, the one where the sanctity of watch duty is violated.





	Distractions

If Beau thought lying awake at night thinking of Yasha was driving her nuts, then _hell_ , she had another thing coming. Because it wasn’t so bad, really, staring at the ceiling with a dull ache of frustration and longing sated by absolutely nothing. It was something she could get used to, _had_ gotten used to.

Because it didn’t compare to how she felt now that Yasha was _here_ , in the flesh, standing right in front of her. She hates to admit that it almost scares her, how off her game she feels, blindsided by her sudden appearance and floundering in the wake of all of the feelings it sparked. 

Beau knows, historically, she’s had a weakness for strong women, but this just didn’t compare. There’s something gut-wrenchingly magnetic about Yasha, something that turned her from a pleasant afterthought into a burning, constant presence in her mind. It’s more than frustrating; it’s infuriating.

But now she’s _here_ , on the open road with them, leaving Alfield after the brief diversion with the gnolls (that ended in them staying longer than intended). Beau can only hope that she’ll stay with them all the way to Zadash, but at the same time, she doesn’t know if she can fucking take it.

The sun is setting over the horizon, the soft oranges and pinks giving way to darkness, and she knows they’ll be stopping soon. Great, another fun and sleepless night, now with Yasha actually there to look at instead of the recreation plastered across the back of her eyes. 

They stop, pulling off to the side of the road. Caleb sets his alarm (gleefully showing Nott how it’s done), and Yasha volunteers to take first watch. Since it’s her first night with them, she reasons.

Beau might as well be on watch, because she sure isn’t _sleeping_. She keeps furtively glancing at Yasha sitting, bored, absentmindedly polishing her greatsword as the night passes uneventfully. It’s hell, catching sight of those big strong arms and that beautiful face and not being able to do a thing about it. 

Yasha is statuesque, an obelisk of muscle and indifference, until about halfway through the watch. At which point Beau is defiantly shutting her eyes and laying on her side, itchy grass poking through her bedroll, just trying to go the fuck to sleep. She hears footsteps coming towards her and tenses, but opens her eyes to see Yasha sit down beside her.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” She asks, the first time she’s spoken directly to Beau since she’s been back. It sends a shiver down her spine.

“I’m too jazzed to get to Zadash,” Beau mumbles blankly, letting her frustration seep into her tone. She cuts her losses on the sleep and sits up, noticing now that Yasha’s only about a foot away from her.

“You know,” Yasha starts, and Beau swears she sees the hint of a smile creeping across her face, “I couldn’t help but notice you keep looking at me.”

Beau bites her tongue to stop from swearing, silently curses herself and every god she knows, and tries to keep her breathing steady. There’s a pause where she can _feel_ the blood rushing to her cheeks but hopes it’s too dark to see. “Gotta make sure you’re gonna stick around.”

Yasha cracks a grin. “You want me to stick around?”

She says it so softly, like the most casual thing in the world, but it still feels like there’s some hidden weight behind the words, some unspoken question. Some suggestion in the way Yasha turns her head slightly to really look Beau in the face, how there’s a gentle sincerity to her eyes instead of the usual steely blankness.

“Yeah. I’ve been…” Beau sputters for a second, unsure of what she’s about to say, unsure if she even should, “I’ve been. Thinking about you. While you were gone.” Okay, that was the stupidest way she could possibly say it, and now the blush in her cheeks is _definitely_ deep enough to be noticeable. 

Yasha leans back and gives her a quizzical look, all punctuated by that soft grin that’s doing horrible things to Beau’s heart. She feels like she’s on fire, here staring into the darkness with her palms flat against the prickly grass and Yasha’s multi-colored eyes loosely trained on her face.

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” Yasha says, a sudden break in the silence that’s followed by another prolonged pause. Beau turns her head away, staring intently at the ground for fear and what she might _do_ if she couldn’t control her rapid heartbeat.

Yasha leans to the side a bit, just enough so their shoulders bump together, and Beau is momentarily convinced that this woman is literally trying to kill her.

She finally turns her head back and sees Yasha staring at her with a smirk, now sitting only inches away. This can’t be a coincidence. She opens her mouth to speak but finds it too dry, coughs a little, and tries again. “Are–Are you hitting on me?” She regrets it as soon as she asks, but she has to know, needs to find some way to parse the difference between her own wishful thinking and Yasha's cryptic bullshit. 

Yasha breaks from her slight grin into a full smile, and it’s magical the way it lights up her face. “Thought you’d never ask,” she says quietly, and she brings up a hand to cup Beau’s chin, catching her off guard. Her fingers are rough and calloused but her touch is gentle, feather-light in the way she tilts Beau’s chin up and holds her face steady as she brings their lips together in a kiss.

Beau can barely think past the butterflies in her stomach and the static in her brain, and just from the one, gentle kiss she finds herself short of breath, running her tongue along her bottom lip to convince her skin that the contact was real.

This wasn’t at all the way she thought it would happen; she’d played it out a hundred times in her head while she was trying to sleep. When Yasha would come back and she’d look at her with a cold indifference. When Beauregard would confront her and grab her by shirt, pull her down for a rough, angry kiss, like a payment for all the time she lost thinking about her. She’d been looking forward to the raw anger, biting lips and drawing blood, passion turned to catharsis. 

But somehow, all that anger had melted away the second she saw Yasha again. And here she is, now, staring up at Yasha’s face with pupils that must be the size of dinner plates, mouth dry, knees weak—practically the least dignified or angry she’s ever been.

She springs forward like a cat and kisses Yasha full on the lips, practically sliding into her lap to reach, fuelled by a passion that she did not care to understand. This is something familiar, something she can handle and something she so desperately wants. 

Yasha is taken off guard for a moment but quickly melts into it, grabbing Beau’s sides and pulling her the rest of the way to her lap. She takes the opportunity to run a hand over Beau’s exposed midsection, feeling the tight muscle, and she slides the hand up and underneath her dark blue top.

Beau lets out a soft whine as she feels Yasha’s hand running across her body, resting just an inch away from cupping her breast. Like she’s asking permission. 

Yasha breaks from the deep kiss, breathing heavily. “You’re way more into me than I thought,” she says breathlessly, eyes alight with a fire that Beau hadn’t quite seen before. Her lips were already red and swollen, showing marks from the way Beau liked to nip and bite.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Beau asks, but she doesn’t give Yasha time to answer before she’s back on her, with a tenacity that’s frankly impressive. She takes Yasha’s wrist and shoves her hand further up her shirt, satisfied when Yasha takes the initiative to use her other hand and undo the ribbon holding up her hair. Beau can already feel the heat growing between her legs, thinking back on all the times she'd thought of the build up to this. About where those fantasies went.

“Fuck, I want your mouth on me _right now_ ,” Beau moans, grinding her hips forward, because she can’t fucking _deal_ with this anymore. Just the kissing, fully-clothed, has her more turned on than she’s ever been in her life.

Yasha grins and picks Beau up ( _fucking effortlessly_ ), placing her down on her nearby bedroll. She unties the blue sash around her waistline but pauses before she starts to undress her further. “Are we gonna wake everybody up?” Her voice is now pointedly quieter, glancing over at the sleeping forms of their friends.

Beau grabs the sash and glances over, gauging the distance. “Don’t worry, I’ll be quiet,” she promises.

Yasha gives her a skeptical glance before grabbing the hem of her pants and sliding them off, taking a moment to take in the view, eyes hungrily looking Beau up and down in a way that made Beau’s breath hitch in her throat. “Won’t you fucking get on with it?” she asks after a prolonged moment, aching to be touched. 

“You’re so impatient,” Yasha chides, moving her face between Beau’s legs, and the anticipation is _killing_ her, but Yasha is taking her sweet time. She takes a single finger and teasingly moves it around her labia, slipping it inside her for just a second. It’s still enough that Beau has to stop herself from moaning.

“I can’t believe you’re this bothered,” Yasha muses, lips so close to being on her that Beau can feel her breath. It takes all she has in her not to grab Yasha by her hair and shove her face forward herself.

Yasha seems to sense this and finally starts, running the flat of her tongue over her clit. Beau bites her lip and involuntarily jerks her hips forward, realizing now that her promise not to be loud would be _much_ harder than she anticipated. She balls up the fabric of the sash and bites down on it, just as Yasha starts to lick her in earnest. 

Yasha places a hand to steady Beau’s hips, and Beau can feel her thighs _shaking_. She thinks, astounded, that this might be the quickest orgasm she’s ever had (and that’s a bit of a disappointment, because the build up so far has been _great_ ). Yasha keeps up her pace, and after a few moments of focusing on her clit she uses her free hand to slide a finger inside her.

She starts with one and quickly moves to two, then three, thrusting in a steady rhythm that Beau quickly matches with the movement of her hips. It’s almost too much already; Beau can feel herself teetering on the edge as the heat builds and spreads through her body. Without moaning, all she can do is let out soft, breathy whines, muffled by the bundled fabric in her mouth.

Beau holds out for longer than she thought she would, but when Yasha crooks her fingers inside of her while sucking on her clit it pushes her over the edge. She comes so hard she swears she sees stars, and she forgets everything in the world other than the feeling of Yasha’s fingers thrusting deeper into her; she’s lucky she had the foresight to stuff something in her mouth to mute the string of curse words and incomprehensible moaning that she can't control while she rides out her orgasm. 

Finally, her hips still and Yasha stops, leaving Beau to just breathe for a moment—heavy, ragged breaths as she stares at the million stars in the night sky and thinks about everything she’d been missing out on her whole life. “Alright,” she says, voice thick and husky, and she has to swallow dryly to go on, “Alright. Let’s go.”

“You give as good as you get?” Yasha asks slyly, undoing her belt and beginning to kick her trousers off. She seems undeniably pleased about the fact that Beau is still sprawled on her back, reeling from the experience. 

“ _Fuck,_ I hope so.”

Yasha looks her up and down, eyes stopping to take in the way the muscles in her inner thighs were still twitching every few moments. “Shit, me too,” she says, and for the first time her tone belies how much this is doing for her.

And if _that’s_ not invigorating, what is? Beau springs up and climbs back into Yasha’s lap once she has her pants off, going right back to their deep, open-mouth kisses. She can taste herself on her lips and can’t quite decide if it’s disgusting or hot, but she rolls with it.

Yasha whines (she actually _whines_ ), taking one of Beau’s hands and guiding it downward across the plane of her muscled stomach, past the curves of her hips to rest on her inner thigh. The thought crosses Beau’s mind to be frustratingly coy like Yasha had been to her, but really, she’s far too eager. 

Beau slips a finger in and finds that Yasha’s _soaked_ , far more aroused than she let on, and Beau briefly wonders how she’s been keeping her composure for so long. Beau adds another digit and thrusts, curling her fingers as they push further. Yasha lets out a low moan that Beau can feel rattling in her chest.

Yasha’s breathing quickens as Beau continues to thrust her fingers, their lips locked together in an increasingly sloppy kiss. Beau breaks from it, their foreheads still pressed together. “You want me to use my mouth on you?”

“Please,” Yasha says, all ragged breath and blown out pupils, far more attractive than she has any right to be. Her voice has dropped about an octave and it has this tone of neediness to it that drives Beau crazy.

Beau trails kisses down Yasha’s neck, stopping for a moment to suck on a spot on her collarbone. She takes her free hand and pushes on her chest so she’s lying flat on her back, Beau’s fingers still thrusting slowly in and out.

Beau shifts down to settle between Yasha’s legs and teasingly begins to kiss the soft skin of her inner thigh, leaving nips and red marks until Yasha gives an insistent whine. Beau takes the hint and quickens her thrusts as she flicks her tongue across Yasha’s clit, and she’s surprised to see the little bit of contact almost sends her over. 

Beau grins, savoring the moment before she goes back down and draws her tongue up from where her fingers are still thrusting, and she adds a third finger. Yasha lets out an immediate pleasurable moan, trying and failing to quiet herself by slapping her hand over her mouth.

At this point, Beau doesn't really care if they wake up the whole world. She continues gleefully, watching the way Yasha comes undone as she pushes her fingers deeper and moves her tongue quicker. Beau could tell she’d hit a sweet spot by the way Yasha’s hips buck, and she comes seconds later, her thick, strong legs quivering like blades of grass, and _that’s_ a sight Beau thinks she can get used to.

Beau removes her fingers and wipes the side of her mouth with her other hand while Yasha sits up, her cheeks flushed and her breathing slowly returning to normal.

“We have to do this all the time,” Beau says enthusiastically, standing up and flashing her bare ass to her sleeping friends while she works on pulling her pants on. She still feels a little weak at the knees as she goes about collecting the sash and hair ribbon that had been thrown haphazardly into the tall grass.

“Gladly,” Yasha says after a moment, grabbing her trousers and beginning to pull them back on. Beau catches the way her fingers fumble with the belt, still shaky in wake of her orgasm, and it’s another sight she’s dying to see again.

With both of them dressed, Beau returns to her position sitting in Yasha’s lap, which she finds she very much enjoys, and Yasha wraps her huge arms around her midsection. They stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the closeness, with Beau pressing the occasional slow kiss to Yasha’s neck.

“I have to wake Molly up for his watch,” Yasha mumbles into Beau’s collarbone, and Beau can’t help but laugh, because she forgot she was supposed to be keeping _watch_. There’s a little triumphant thrill that runs through her at the thought of being such a distractive force.

Beau grumbles when Yasha stand up, but she doesn’t want to follow her and deal with Molly. Or walk over there at all—the nights of bad sleep are finally catching up to her, and she watches with droopy eyes as Yasha goes to shake the tiefling awake.

They share a few brief words that Beau doesn’t quite catch before Molly takes the position, sitting cross-legged and looking out into the darkness. She does catch him glancing curiously at Yasha as she makes her way back over to Beau. 

Yasha lays down on the bedroll besides her and wraps Beau in her arms, gently nuzzling the back of her neck, and Beau feels like she could be like this forever—basking in the warm, post-coital glow with Yasha wrapped around her and Molly in the distance, confused and annoyed. She gives him a sneer that she hopes he can see before she turns her head to kiss Yasha on the lips, then falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's first smut™ so if it's bad that's the explanation lmao. Pretty much a spiritual successor to Stuck On You, and part two in the "never put beau or yasha on watch" series. HOPE IT'S DECENT cause i'm genuinely afraid. 
> 
> Also: Molly would not be happy about this development and I find it endlessly amusing to explore that. So that's where that bit at the end comes from.


End file.
